The Poisoned Mind
by sabrachoso
Summary: Scarecrow fanfiction my friend asked me to write. Jeanette Willis is not your average mental patient...
1. Relatively Sane

Chapter One: Relatively Sane

The polished man in the armchair looked sane enough. A pristine tweed jacket with patches on the elbows covered his thin torso; crisp white shirt and black pants completed the look of an Oxford graduate. His fingertips were pressed together pensively, eyes closed as if he were in some sort of trance, pondering his existence, the world, humanity.

His brooding state was interrupted as a blond nurse, clad in the standard Gotham Mental Hospital uniform, threw open the door. After blowing a massive bubble with her chewing gum, (the man winced slightly as it popped) she spoke loudly, a slightly bored tone in her voice.

"Patient here to see you, Dr. Crane."

Crane nodded at the nurse gently, picking up a notepad nearby. She closed the door, and moments later, a petite blond girl stumbled into the room, looking around like a deer in headlights. She looked seventeen, maybe eighteen max. Crane gestured to the leather couch in front of him softly, eyes locked on the young female as she fell onto it, letting out a rush of air as if comforted by the smooth leather and pillows.

"Jeanette… Willis, is it?" She nodded vigorously. Jotting down a note or two and glancing at her diagnosis sheet momentarily, he didn't notice until he looked up the hungry way her eyes examined his features.

"Jeanette, how old are you?"

She stared at him several moments before quietly answering, "Seventeen, Dr. Crane… how old are you?"

Startled, he stared into her eyes a moment before answering coolly, "I'm 23."

A chuckle, "you're awfully young for a phsyciatrist!" Smiling slightly, he checked her sheet once more. According to the terse data sheet, she suffered mild schizophrenia. _Awfully normal for a schizo…_He thought to himself.

"So, Jeanette, why do you think you're here?"

"Because I'm crazy."

Dr. Crane raised an eyebrow, "oh? You don't seem so crazy to me…"

"I am…" she stated matter-of-factly, staring at him, her face calm.

"Who says you're crazy?"

"Oh, everyone; my family, my counselor, my doctors. I'm a regular loon!"

He rebounded her statements as calmly as she threw them out, "a loon? Why would they say such a thing, Jeanette?"

"Because I am, Dr. Crane. I am."

He frowned, realizing he'd get nowhere this way.

"You don't believe me, do you?" She stared into his eyes.

"Well, your data chart says you have mild schizophrenia, but I have yet to see any sign."

Jeanette smiled coyly, "if I were to act crazy, would you believe me, Dr. Crane?"

Crane took notes on his legal pad busily, "act crazy? What do you mean?"

"Oh, you know… shout some curse words, tear my shirt off, proclaim my sight of phantoms. This and that."

Her face remained tranquil the entire time she told him this.

"Why are you so determined to make me think you're crazy?"

"Because I am, haven't we discussed this already?"

"Yes, we have, but to be honest with you, you don't seem crazy at all."

Jeanette leaned forward, smiling gently at him, soft lips parting as she spoke.

"Perhaps that sheet lies, Dr. Crane. Perhaps I'm not really a schizophrenic. Perhaps, I'm a nymphomaniac. Would you like that, Dr. Crane? Would you take advantage of a patient? An underage patient, nonetheless?" She let one sleeve of her T-shirt fall down, revealing a shoulder bare but for a bra strap.

Leaning forward, he pushed her sleeve back up, looking her in the eyes, "do you go to school, Jeanette?"

She wrinkled her nose, partly amused and partly annoyed that he would not humor her, "No, I'm home schooled."

"Do you interact much with other teenagers?"

She shrugged, "not really. My parents don't let me out much… I met some girls at the hospital, but I'm not exactly the socializing type."

Crane nodded absentmindedly. "And your parents? What do you think of them?"

Jeanette laughed, "well, the bible says that I think they're wonderful, Dr. Crane."

"But what do you think?"

"I'm not one to blaspheme, Dr. Crane."

The young phsyciatrist chuckled slightly, making a brief note. She watched him warily, waiting for his next question.

"Tell me about your dreams, Jeanette…"

"My plans for the future or my nighttime visions?"

"Both."

"In what order?"

"Any you like."

"Very well," she began, breathing deeply and leaning back on the couch, hugging a pillow, "when I grow older, I think I'd like to get married. Maybe have kids. I don't want to be exceptional, or famous. I just want to lead a pleasant and happy life…"

"Dreams?"

"Well, those are an entirely different thing! I can't really describe them. Often, I have this same dream, over and over. There's someone in it, a man, but I can never see his face. All I know is that I love him very much, that's it. And then, I feel darkness closing in, and there's a great crack in the earth between us, which grows wider, pulling us further and further apart. Then, well, there are two endings…"

"Oh? What's the first ending?"

"Wings spring up on his back and he rescues me."

"And the second?"

She looked up at him, a melancholy look in her eyes.

"I fall in … and I die…"

Dr. Crane stared into her face silently. The deep pause was interrupted when the nurse burst in again, smacking her gum.

"End of the session, Dr. Crane." She said with that same monotone.

"Thank you…" He said quietly, standing up to escort Jeanette out the door. She stood up, looking at his hand curiously as he offered it to her to shake.

"Dr. Crane… what's your first name?"

He stared at her blankly, startled, for a moment before answering, "Jonathon."

"Ah…" she said, still staring intriguingly at his hand. She turned to leave, and then, thinking of something, turned back and peeked into the room.

"Dr. Crane?" She said, looking into his eyes intensely.

"Yes?"

"Someday… I'll see his face…"


	2. Four and Twenty Blackbirds

Chapter Two: Four and Twenty Blackbirds

Darkness. A teenage girl and her boyfriend were getting in an ancient Pontiac Trans Am in an almost deserted high school parking lot. It was fairly early; the girl was in a prom dress, her hair mussed, lipstick smeared, her shoes in hand. The boy followed, carrying his jacket over his shoulder.

Out of the din, a thin shadow emerged, brandishing a gun, moving slowly towards the couple in their car. The frail young man stalked, unnoticed, until he was within twenty feet of the car. The hulking boyfriend saw him first, looking up; a smile on his face from something the girl had said a moment before. He stopped mid-sentence, eyes widening, staring silently at the figure moving unwaveringly across the parking lot.

Now the girlfriend turned to look, still smiling brightly. But her grin dropped as she noticed the pale, shirtless boy stalking across the parking lot. She looked down at the ignition, at the keys dangling there, her boyfriend's hand pausing as if about to turn them as he stared in fright at the ghostly pale figure.

She turned her attention back to the boy, who was growing steadily closer. As he raised his gun, she let out a scream and hurriedly shoved her boyfriend's hand out of the way, turning the key frantically and looking back out. She saw the boy's finger squeeze the trigger so gently, a single bullet shattering the windshield. Another squeeze and another bullet flew.

The girl wedged her foot down onto the gas pedal as her boyfriend sat there, paralyzed in fear. She thrust her foot against it, tears streaming down her face as she tried to steer the car, her heart pounding in her chest. The boy moved aside silently as she almost ran into him, raising his gun and grinning sadistically. The girl shrieked, looking back at him, her hands trembling on the wheel. In that moment, time stood still. The shadowy figure's finger pulled the trigger a third time. The metal bullet flew out of the gun like a torpedo, rocketing for the car. The pretty young girl sobbed uncontrollably, turning back to look out of the windshield right before the car slammed head-first into a brick wall and she flew through the broken glass of the windshield.

Jonathan Crane woke in a cold sweat. His heart raced as he looked around his bedroom, hyperventilating, realizing it was only a dream. Sighing, he fumbled in the dark for the lamp pull next to him, knocking the lamp over in the process. He groaned, feeling around on the floor, picking up the lamp and finally finding the little chain, pulling it. The room was immediately doused in soft light.

Pulling open the drawer of his bedside table, he searched sleepily before pulling out a prescription bottle. He pulled out five small white pills, popping them in his mouth simultaneously and swallowing with effort. He sighed, staring down at the bottle a moment before screwing on the cap and throwing it lazily into the drawer.

Jonathan shoved the drawer shut angrily. He hadn't had that dream in at least three months. He plucked at his sheets nervously. Five years. It had been five years.

"That bitch and her boyfriend deserved it…" he told himself, but he was still unsure.

He pushed his hair out of his eyes, heaving another sigh. What was the use? He could make up any excuse he wanted to. Rejection can make the most disturbed of minds leap into work. Murder cannot be ruled out in heated passion.

Besides, he'd be lying if he said he didn't like it.

He stared at a moth flitting around the light of his lamp. Quickly, he snatched it in his hand, staring at it through his fingers.

A curious thing, life… It's so precious, yet so easy to take away.

He crushed the moth in his hands, wiping the blood on his shirt and flicking his lamp off.


	3. Hush Little Baby

Chapter Three: Hush Little Baby

"Jeanette Willis here for her appointment, Dr. Crane," the regular blonde nurse said as she poked her head through the door, popping her gum.

"Thank you..." he muttered sleepily, grabbing his clipboard and staring at the plain ballpoint pen in his hand as he waited for his patient.

"We meet again, Dr. Crane," Jeanette said in her usual cool manner, walking in and sinking into the leather couch.

"So it seems…" Crane checked his watch and wrote in the time at the top of his notes.

"Alright, Jeanette… any news this week?"

"Nothing unusual, really…" she shrugged, "shit happens."

"Oh? And what shit is it that's happened?"

She laughed, "you're _not_ going to believe this…"

The man across from her took notes on their conversation dutifully, "try me…"

"Well…" She leaned back, spreading her arms wide across the couch, "I'm pregnant…" She noticed his surprised look, and laughed.

"I know, right? Who the hell would be crazy enough to bang me?"

"That's not quite what I was thinking, but nonetheless…"

Jeanette chuckled, "funny thing is, I'm not sure who the father is… in fact, I don't even seem to recall engaging in _the act _with anyone…"

"Then how could you be pregnant…?"

"Well you see, Jonathan… when a man and a woman love each other very much…"

He rolled his eyes subtly, a small gesture due to its lack of professionalism, "no, I mean, do you think someone may have drugged you?"

The girl shrugged, "in my neighborhood, anything's possible…"

Crane breathed deeply, losing himself in his notes, his handwriting steadily becoming sloppier as he wrote quickly.

"Are you going to tell my parents?" she looked at him, mood suddenly serious, eyes wide. She looked helpless, and it was rather out of character.

"Well, as your phsyciatrist, I cannot tell anyone the details of our little meetings unless I am seriously concerned for your health…"

"So you aren't?"

"Well, they might notice in nine months when their daughter seems to have put on a bit of weight and doesn't look quite the same in a bathing suit…"

She laughed bitterly, "yeah… maybe in nine months it'll be okay, though…"

Crane watched her with sympathy, "have you considered abortion?"

Jeanette shook her head, "I don't murder…" Her eyes were locked on him, revolted he would even think of such an atrocity.

"Well, yes, but you're too young to…"

"No." Her eyes narrowed slightly, and Crane decided it best to leave well enough alone.

"Very well… are you sure, with your mental health that it's a good idea to give birth? Weren't you on birth control?"

"I was supposed to be, but I flushed the pill down the toilet each month. It's just unnatural, Y'know?"

"That's not very safe, Jeanette…"

"Well, I'm not very safe…"

She looked confident, but there was unease in her voice.

"So what are you going to do once the baby comes?"

"Go to the hospital like everyone else…"

"Will you keep it?"

"Of course."

"I've known lots of teenage mothers, Jeanette… ninety percent of the time it doesn't work out…"

"Well, let's shoot for that ten percent." She sat, arms crossed, legs crossed, totally defiant. Jonathan couldn't help but chuckle inwardly.

"Very well… what about a father? The baby will have a father?"

"If I can manage to find someone in nine months. I turn eighteen in seven, so I can move out or even get married… otherwise, it's just me and Junior…" she patted her stomach lightly, smiling jokingly.

_Good luck with that.._ Jonathan thought to himself, shaking his head.

"How unfortunate, Dr. Crane."

"What?"

"You don't believe I can do it. What a cynic you are, sir! Can't even give a young girl hope."

Crane sighed, "it's not my job to give you hope."

"But it's your job to beat me down?"

"No…" Crane interjected fiercely, his eyes glimmering with animosity, "it's my job to say what's in your best interest, and I don't think you should keep this baby without a father, by whatever means."

Jeanette glared at him.

"Just to spite you, I'm going to do it. Just to prove you wrong. And when I do, I'll laugh." She stood up, snatching her coat and turning to walk out in a huff.

Crane grabbed her wrist gently, "you still have thirty minutes."

"I don't care!" she wriggled and pulled, trying to get out of his firm grip.

"Sit down, Jeanette…" she continued pulling, tugging, and wriggling.

"No! Let go of me! Let… GO!" She stopped pulling, falling forward, tears streaming down her face. Jonathan barely managed to catch her and pull her down to the couch, patting her back gently. It felt so awkward for him, a totally new side of human life. Compassion was not something he was used to.

She buried her head in his shoulder, sobbing, barely coherent.

"I can't do it…" she finally said, calming down if only a little and wiping her eyes with her sleeve.

"Do what?"

"This! I barely function now; can you imagine me with a baby? And with the way my parents shelter me, I'll never stand a chance… I may as well give up…"

Jonathan stared at her silently, uncertain what to say.

"N-no… don't… you can do it?" the young doctor tried to find the right words. He was a fish out of water in this situation.

She smiled, leaning forward and hugging him tightly.

"Thank you…" she whispered in his ear as she squeezed him firmly. Jonathan just sat there, arms at his sides, befuddled by these new emotions being forced on him in a wave.

Jonathan Crane was not one to get close to other humans, but there in his office, he felt compelled to return her embrace, wrapping his arms around the poor girl gently.


	4. Angel Evangeline

Chapter Four: Angel Evangeline

It was summer. A boy lay in a green meadow, an explosion of flowers surrounding him, a book lying limp in his hands, and his eyes scanning down the page as butterflies fluttered lazily around his head like satellites. Yellow pollen drifted through the thick summer air, bees occasionally buzzing through it and attacking the center of a flower. The sun shone bright off the pale skin of the boy's chest and bounced off his auburn hair; the only sound was the twittering birds, the ruffling grass, and the turn of the page.

The young man had been spending the past few days of the summer vacation in his meadow reading. He would lay there shirtless in the sun for hours, reading and napping on the soft grass as his skin baked little by little. He had not seen or heard anything of another human being after a week full of long summer days in his meadow.

He woke up with his face pressed firmly in the grass, long imprints left in the skin of his pale cheeks, which were flushed red by warm rays of the sun, eyes too laden down with heavy sleep to open more than halfway. Through his drowsy haze, he could see someone standing at the edge of the meadow, staring at him. Stars filled his eyes as he sat up too quickly, and the blood slowly made its way back up to his head.

The person at the end of the meadow was a young girl, clutching a basket and looking as shocked as he was so see someone else there. Her white dress and her long shining hair gave her the distinct appearance of an angel. The bare skin on her shoulders and arms was not pale and pasty like the boy's, but rather a rich tan color; a bronze that the sun bounced off of, making her seem to glow.

After a long moment of staring at each other, the girl moved forward across the meadow, stepping high in the tall grass near the edges so that she didn't scratch her legs, white dress blowing in the breeze along with long, dark hair.

It seemed forever and at the same no time at all before she had reached the young man. She stood, staring down at him from over her basket as he looked up at her, eyes still hung with sleep. Curious green eyes watched him as she seemed to look for the words to say, finally seeming to have decided and simply stating:

"Hello."

A voice to make the heavens shatter. The young man was shaken, but quickly composed himself as best as he could.

"E-erm, hello.." he winced at his sudden incoherence.

"I'm Evie…" she had a dazzling smile that spread across her entire face, wrinkling her eyes and her nose in just the right places as she plopped on the ground next to the young man.

"Jonathan… I, I'm Jonathan."

"Jonathan?"

"Yes.."

"Evie is short for Evangeline.."

"That means angel.." Jonathan smiled, warming up now that he was no longer as dazzled by the sudden presence of such a girl.

"Yes, it does." The girl smiled, raising an eyebrow slightly.

"Are you?"

Pale green eyes widened in confusion, "am I what?"

"An angel.."

A tinkling, beautiful laugh that made his insides warm, "no. I'm just a girl."

"No, you're too beautiful. You must be an angel.." Jonathan smiled lazily, laying back on his elbows and as he closed his eyes and smiled into the sun. He could not see Evie sitting next to him, blushing and smiling slightly.

After a few minutes of blissful silence, Evie spoke. "What are you doing here?" she asked bluntly.

"I've been coming here every day for at least a week. What have you been doing here?"

Another sparkling laugh, "I've come here almost every day, every summer since I was a little girl, I've just had no time this week! How funny…" she laughed to herself as though it was quite amusing, "well, I suppose it would be no trouble at all to share. It is a big meadow, and I am only one person."

Jonathan smiled, and for whatever reason Evie got the distinct impression that this was a rare occurrence. He nodded, "okay, Angel Evie.."

That morning, Dr. Jonathan Crane woke with a smile.


End file.
